His body and mind had been numb for
so long that he had started to
believe that he would never feel anything again. And
then, a few shards
of broken glass, and all that had been pent-up inside
him had burst open
like an ugly, infected wound, spilling forth his desire,
his craving,
his Kindred dependency on the life-liquid of mortals.
He shrunk back from his own memories.
How can I pursue Cameron when I’ve
done the same thing? he accused
himself. Worse! I have violated her mind.
The Manzanita incident. Cameron’s
voice. He had tampered with her
memories. He had invaded the privacy of her being when
he had thought
that she had been unfaithful. He had hurt her so many
times, everything
culminating in the violent moments the other evening.
She had been
scared and bleeding and, instead of helping her, he had
raped her,
unable to stop himself. How could she accept that? How
could she
forgive? How could she still love him? How could she
love him at all?
Caitlin interrupted the throng of
his incriminating thoughts when
she moved restlessly. She mumbled something that even
Julian’s acute
hearing didn’t catch. He touched her face lightly.
“It’s all right, Caitlin,” he whispered.
“It’s just a dream.”
She opened her eyes, the pupils huge
with panic, and gripped him,
her nails digging painfully into his skin.
“Julian,” she sobbed, “I had a terrible
dream. I dreamt you were
hurt, and I couldn’t help you!” She was clinging to him
with all her
strength, her body shaking in fear.
You’re dreaming the nightmares I should
have, he thought. Only, I
can’t dream!
“Caitlin, there’s nothing wrong with
me,” he said to her. “You hear,
nothing wrong.”
She calmed down slowly, but kept holding
on to him, too upset to go
back to sleep.
I keep lying. Julian would not deceive
himself at least.
He was far from all right. The night
before he had panicked at the
snapping sound that Daedalus’ lighter made when the Nosferatu
lit a
cigarette. Julian had followed the burning end with his
eyes until
Daedalus had noticed and extinguished it.
“You’ve been burned...?” Daedalus
had asked, holding up the
half-smoked thing.
“Yes.”
Daedalus’ expression of revulsion
had been beyond description. He
hadn’t posed more questions, but continued watching Julian
with pity. He
had noticed before that the Prince wouldn’t allow anybody
to touch him,
keeping everybody at arm’s length at least. When Daedalus
had taken hold
of his shoulder on one occasion, Julian had stiffened
as if he had been
hit.
No, he was far from being all right.
That he was able to make love
to Caitlin again didn’t change the fact that the gruesome
memories
haunted him during his every waking hour.
Caitlin’s hands locked around his
neck and she kissed him. He
responded eagerly. Her kisses and caresses could chase
away the terrible
images from his mind. Julian had discovered during the
last few days
that the mounting desire, the passion, Caitlin’s love,
could lock away
the evil, could make him forget. He had sought desperately
that oblivion
in her arms as often as he could, hoping that eventually
the pain would
vanish for good.
Frank stared at Caitlin in disbelief.
Several seconds passed in silence.
At last, Frank tore his gaze from
the woman and looked at her companion. Samuel Heims was
everything Frank
Kohanek had expected him to be. Frank had listened to
the big man on the
radio for many years. His appearance did respond to Frank’s
imaginary
picture of Biggy, the mesmerizing voice of San Francisco
nights. Now, he
was sitting beside Caitlin Byrne in front of Frank’s
office desk, his
calm, green eyes glittering with amusement.
Frank cleared his throat before turning
back to Caitlin.
“Are you saying...” he hesitated for
a moment, “that this thing is
genuine?” He indicated the diskette that lay on his desk.
Caitlin had handed him the printed
contents an hour ago, and both
she and Biggy had sat waiting patiently while he read
the diary. Caitlin
shrugged.
“I believe it’s genuine. I’ve seen
the original,” she said.
“The original?” Frank eyed her suspiciously.
“Where did you find
it?”
“In Amy’s computer.” Caitlin had the
good taste to look ashamed. “I
deleted it.”
“Why?”
But before Caitlin could say anything,
Frank answered his own
question.
“You didn’t believe it.”
“Oh, I believed it all right,” Caitlin
retorted. “Julian denied
everything at first, but admitted eventually that he
had... well, that
he... that Amy wrote the truth.” Caitlin looked up at
the policeman and
squared her shoulders in defiance. “But he denied absolutely
that he had
anything to do with her disappearance.”
“Nevertheless, you’ve destroyed evidence,”
Frank returned her gaze
unwavering. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Caitlin looked away blushing.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t want
you to harass Julian.”
Frank’s face turned red too. As things
were at that time, Caitlin
had had every reason to try to protect her lover from
Frank’s
suspicions.
“So why are you here now?” Frank asked
at last. “Why didn’t you just
destroy this one too? Why...?”
“It was sent to me anonymously,” Biggy
interrupted. “I confronted
Julian Luna with it, and it was he who suggested that
I turn it over to
the police. He didn’t seem to care very much, but he
said that he didn’t
want it to become public knowledge.” Biggy tapped the
diskette with his
index finger. “It would become a nuisance, as he put
it. He also told me
that he didn’t know what had become of the lady in question.”
“She doesn’t sound like much of a
lady,” Frank commented, and Biggy
chuckled.
“No, she certainly doesn’t,” he said.
“As I said, it was sent to me
anonymously. Maybe it was Miss Weatherstone herself who
sent it, or had
it sent. Who knows?”
“Hm...” Frank turned a page in the
end of the diary. “She has
written here that she intended to contact Julian Luna...”
He looked up
at Caitlin who shrugged again.
“You know how difficult it is to contact
Julian when he doesn’t want
to be found,” she retorted. She remembered how she had
chased Julian
Luna when she wanted to interview him. She had been on
the verge of
giving up.
Frank sat frowning at the offensive
pages of the diary. It made him
angry. Its contents described events that took place
at about the same
time when he had found Julian and Lillie in bed together.
He remembered
the rage he had felt then and his broken ribs. As far
as he knew, Julian
and Lillie had not been together again afterwards.
“You shouldn’t have left the country,”
Frank told Caitlin, making
her wince. He turned to Biggy. “But whoever has sent
it to you will
realize quite soon that you don’t intend to use it. He
or she will send
a copy to someone else.”
“Don’t worry, Biggy responded. “This
person will be listening. I’ll
get a message across. Don’t worry...”
Julian had kept the tape of the conversation
between Biggy and
Cameron.
Frank had told Biggy that if he were
contacted again by the person
who had sent the diskette, to urge him or her to go to
the police.
Julian smiled at that. Let’s see if Cameron dares to
approach Frank
Kohanek, he thought.
In the meantime, he had started to
think of ways to chase the Brujah
out of the City. Cameron had overstayed his welcome.
Frank had called and asked to see
him and Julian had agreed to that
although he would have preferred not to. Frank was a
sore spot; he
always managed to rub Julian the wrong way, and the Prince
knew why.
This is what I’d be like if I were
mortal, he thought. This is what
I was like when I was a mortal, he corrected himself.
Frank Kohanek was drawn towards the
dark Kindred world, just as
Julian Luna was drawn towards the world of the living.
That’s why our paths are intertwined.
Julian was wondering how much it would
take to nudge Frank off the
edge of the human world. To make him want to become a
Kindred. He hoped
for his own sake, as well as for Frank’s, that it would
never happen.
Julian wanted to protect Frank’s humanity; his own was
lost forever.
Frank’s humanity, however, was not
in evidence when they met.
“You look like hell!” the policeman
commented amiably. “What’s
happened to you?”
Julian blinked in surprise. He was
absolutely sure that there was no
trace left of his injuries. He sighed in exasperation.
If Frank Kohanek
could sense his anguish so easily, what did others see,
those who knew
him well: Daedalus, Caitlin, Lillie...
“I’d probably feel much better if
everybody wasn’t telling me how
lousy I feel,” he said, not hiding his irritation and
Frank laughed. He
peered at Julian closely.
“In fact, you don’t look that bad.
It’s just...” he hesitated for a
moment, “well, you’ve got that look, like somebody who
has been...
mistreated.”
Julian stared at the policeman. Is
it so obvious? he wondered.
“I have been... mistreated,” he said
softly.
“I’m sorry.” There was genuine compassion
in Frank’s face. Whatever
animosity there had been between them in the past, it
was gone, and
Frank changed the subject. “You promised me that you’d
tell me what was
going on when it was over. Is it over yet?”
Julian nodded.
“Yes, it’s over. There was a rather
big... controversy among the
Kindred. It has been settled.”
“Controversy!” Frank couldn’t help
laughing. “But you are a master
of understatement! It’s all right though. As far as I
know, no human
being has been harmed. What you do to each other is your
business. You
are the judge in this city when it comes to your kind,
aren’t you?”
“I am,” Julian confirmed, relieved
that Frank had dropped the
subject of the Kindred war so easily. “But I’m not alone,
although my
word carries the most weight.”
“Fancy company I keep.” Frank laughed
again and peered at Julian’s
pale face. “You know, I thought you were invulnerable,”
he added, unable
to hide his gloating. He was still unsure of his feelings
about the
Prince of San Francisco. I hate his guts and I admire
him, he thought.
“Well, I’m not.” There was a trace
of anger in Julian’s voice. “I’ve
found that out the hard way.”
“So... what happened to you?” Frank
asked again but the Prince
ignored the question.
“Frank, when you asked to see me,
it wasn’t because you wanted to
inquire about my health. What’s on your mind?”
“Anamaria Weatherstone,” Frank said
and Julian sighed.
“I wish she hadn’t gone missing. This
thing is plaguing me.” Julian
wished sincerely that he hadn’t killed that woman, but
he couldn’t
change the past. He was quite sure that the Nosferatu
had made her body
disappear for good. It would never turn up, showing that
she had died a
violent death.
“I met her once, in the Haven,” Julian
said. “It’s in her diary, the
way she remembered it.”
Frank’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Are you saying that she remembered
it wrong? So what really
happened?”
Julian regretted his comment but felt
compelled to answer.
“I... fed from her, that’s all.” He
looked away, but Frank didn’t
know him well enough to interpret his avoidance of eye
contact as
reluctance to talk.
“Of course,” Frank was explaining
to himself, “you could hardly tell
Caitlin that, so you admitted to having sex with her.”
He was silent for
a moment. “Did you?”
Julian forced himself to look at Frank
again.
“Let’s say I didn’t fend off her advances.”
He leaned forward, his
gaze locking Frank’s. “It tastes better when it’s hot,
you know.”
Frank stared at the Kindred with a
mixture of revulsion and
fascination.
“My God!” He felt a shiver travel
up his spine. Julian Luna’s
alienage had hit him with full impact. He swallowed hard
and cleared his
throat. The picture of Lillie and Julian, covered with
blood, flashed
through his mind.
“You truly are different,” he said,
his voice barely a whisper, and
Julian snorted.
“I’d have thought that you’d have
realized that by now. If you don’t
want to hear the answer, don’t ask the question!” He
had shocked the
policeman deliberately. “Haven’t Alexandra and Lillie
taught you
anything?”
“They’ve never fed from me!” Frank
almost shouted. “At least I don’t
think so,” he added much more calmly.
“No, of course not.” Julian smiled
suddenly. “We don’t feed from our
human... companions. Unless they feed us their blood
deliberately.” His
face became serious again. “Frank, do not offer your
blood to Lillie,
ever! Not, unless you want to become one of us. I hope
you never will.
But if you do... I don’t think you’d want to become a
Toreador.”
Frank glared at the Prince in disbelief.
“Are you offering to Embrace me?”
“No!” Julian was shaking his head.
“You’d hate being Kindred. Even
more than I do.”
“You wish you were a mortal man?”
Frank asked with incredulity.
“No, there’s no point in wishing for
something that cannot be.”
Julian’s smile was suddenly sad. “But I miss it.”
Frank leaned back; he was shocked
and bewildered. The picture of
Julian Luna that his mind had created had suddenly turned
false. Frank
had glimpsed a bottomless pit of pain and despair in
the Kindred, and a
feeling of pity swept over him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t
know...” His voice trailed off,
he couldn’t find the right words. Instead he returned
to the original
subject of the conversation.
“The diary, what should be done about
it?”
Julian gave the question full attention.
“I want you to find the one who sent
it to the radio station and
make him understand that he’s interfering with a police
investigation.
That should stop him.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Frank responded,
not realizing that
Julian’s use of a definite pronoun indicated that he
knew who the
offender was.
As he had promised his Sire, Biggy
sent a message while he was
talking on the radio, to the one person who would understand
it.
“A friend has sent me a gift,” he
said. “A very important gift.
Please, call me. We need to discuss how we can put it
to the best use.”
Cameron called as soon as Biggy was
off the air.
“It’s out of my hands,” Biggy told
him. “As soon as I started
digging around, the police turned up here with a search
warrant and
impounded the diskette as well as my printout. I almost
ended up in jail
because I wouldn’t tell them who gave it to me. Not that
I would, even
if I could. But I think they want you badly.”
“Why?” Cameron was wondering how much
influence Julian Luna had over
the San Francisco Police Department. “Does Luna think
that he’s
omnipotent. I can make as many copies as I wish. Send
them wherever I
want.”
“Sure you can,” Biggy responded. “But
it’s not Mr. Luna who is
throwing his weight around. It’s Weatherstone senior,
and he’s got a lot
of weight. If your daughter had written something like
that, would you
want it published, whether she was missing or not?” Biggy
paused. “If
you want to bring Luna down, you should talk to the police.”
“Why? They already have the diskette.
What do they need me for?”
Biggy sighed in exasperation.
“It doesn’t work that way. As long
as there’s no source, it’s just a
pile of anonymous crap. Now, if you could tell them that
she gave it to
you, that would change the matter entirely. With a little
imagination
the police might connect Miss Weatherstone’s disappearance
to Julian
Luna.”
Biggy knew that he was laying it on
thick. He knew perfectly well
that there was no evidence that Julian had met Amy again,
and as long as
there was no body, no crime had been committed. But Cameron,
being a
Brujah, wasn’t well versed in human laws. He merely saw
it as an
opportunity to get Luna with the one thing from which
he could not
protect himself. The Prince could not intimidate humans
the way he could
intimidate the Kindred.
“Okay,” Cameron had already decided,
“I’ll do it.”
It’s fortunate that he can’t see the
triumphant smile on my face,
Biggy thought.
“All right. Now, the officer in charge,
his name is Frank
Kohanek...”
“Frank Kohanek!” Cameron almost shouted.
“That’s Luna’s puppet!”
“He didn’t sound like a puppet to
me,” Biggy retorted. “On the
contrary, he seemed... well, I got this feeling that
Julian Luna has
offended or harmed him in the past. I think he would
welcome the
opportunity to nail Luna’s hide to his wall.”
Biggy laughed at his own choice of
words. If anybody’s hide were
going to be nailed, it would be Cameron’s, and it would
look quite nice
on Julian’s wall. If Biggy knew what Cameron had done
to Caitlin, he
would have done the nailing himself.
Cameron was thinking furiously.
The reporter might be right. Cameron
knew about Alexandra. Frank
Kohanek could hardly be a friend of Luna. The fact that
he knew about
the Masquerade might make it easier to convince him that
Julian Luna had
something to do with Amy’s disappearance.
Cameron made up his mind.
“I’ll talk to him,” he told Biggy
and hung up.
Although Sasha had told him that she
would never speak to Julian
again, Cameron decided to treat her outburst as temporary
insanity. True
enough, her beloved Cash had died in the Prince’s service
- one Gangrel
less as far as Cameron was concerned - but Julian Luna
was still her
family. The fact that she was Brujah didn’t change that.
She would find
out soon enough that the Brujah Clan wasn’t wealthy,
while Julian was a
bottomless source of money. Besides, being related to
the Prince had its
advantages, apart from Julian’s apparent fondness for
Sasha. Cameron
would take her in, as she had no Sire and no income.
He would pamper her
and put up with her whims. Sasha might prove useful in
the future.
It took Cameron only a few days to
coax the girl into his bed. Not
that he particularly wanted her; she was too young and
childish for his
taste. She seemed to enjoy her newly found sexual power
and Cameron let
her believe that it was she who had seduced him. Apparently,
her charm
hadn’t worked on Luna, the fool! That’s why she was Brujah
now. Cameron
didn’t know that Julian had wanted Sasha to lead a human
life.
As Cameron had suspected, it did not
mean that the Prince had
abandoned his young relative just because she had abandoned
him. A
Ventrue woman came to Cameron’s office one night and
asked to talk to
him alone. When he sent everybody out, she put a briefcase
on his desk
and opened it. It was filled with money. Cameron tried
very hard not to
stare.
“It’s for Sasha,” the Ventrue said.
“Don’t let her know that it
comes from the Prince.”
The Brujah Primogen made an effort
to look offended.
“I can take care of my own Clan!”
“Of course you can,” she retorted
smiling. “But Sasha is a handful.
If she is well cared for, it will be... appreciated.
And there is more
where this comes from.”
Cameron accepted the money. His investment
had already started to
pay off.
Lillie had had enough.
Something had to be done before Julian
Luna destroyed himself. She
was quite sure that she knew him better than anyone else.
Even that
lofty Nosferatu couldn’t know everything. According to
Lillie, she was
the only one who could be of any help. However, when
she tried to
approach Julian, he refused to see her alone. Lillie
was hurt. Dismayed,
she watched him bring Caitlin back. She had believed
that the human
woman was gone for good. Then, she watched them suffer.
If you can’t help him, move over,
Lillie thought angrily.
Lillie Langtry decided to confront
Caitlin.
She went to Caitlin’s office, late
in the afternoon, knowing that it
was the only place where she could speak to that mortal
wimp without
Julian hanging around.
Caitlin looked at the Toreador Primogen
with surprise.
“Lillie, what brings you here?”
“I want to talk to you,” Lillie responded
amiably enough. “I’ve
noticed that Julian is... unwell.” She was smiling her
most friendly
smile. “Is everything all right between you two?”
Caitlin knew how forthright Lillie
could be.
“Yes. Yes!” she answered. “He has
been rather depressed lately, but
I think that he’s over it now.” She felt rather uncomfortable
under
Lillie’s scrutinizing gaze. The smile was still there.
“Are you sure? I’ve got the impression
that... well, that he keeps
to himself mostly.”
Caitlin frowned. The last thing she
wanted to do was to discuss
Julian with his former lover. She understood very well
what Lillie was
implying, but decided to play dumb.
“What are you trying to say, Lillie?”
she inquired.
Lillie’s smile didn’t waver but she
sighed.
“I know that he doesn’t make love
to you. I think you should leave
him alone.”
That’s Lillie, all right! Caitlin
thought. She was on the verge of
saying oh, but he does, but stopped herself. Lillie couldn’t
know what
had happened in the library only a few days ago.
“I don’t think that’s any of your
business!” Caitlin stood up, no
longer hiding her anger.
“Oh, but it is!” Lillie rose too.
“You see, I can help him, whereas
you can’t!” The smile was gone and Lillie’s eyes flashed
white.
“The only person who can tell me to
go is Julian,” Caitlin retorted.
She laughed to cover her fear. “Whatever you think you’ve
got that I
haven’t, it’s not for you to decide what I should do!”
Lillie tossed her head. She had lost
her temper and raised her
voice.
“We have things in common that you
can’t even start to imagine!”
“What things? What do you have in
common with Julian? What is it I
can’t imagine?” Caitlin was using her journalistic skills
to throw
Lillie off balance, barraging her with questions.
“Stay out of this!” Lillie shouted.
“You’re not Kindred!”
“Whose kindred?” Caitlin asked as
she watched the other woman turn
deathly pale.
But Lillie didn’t answer. Instead
she turned abruptly and stomped
out of the office.
Caitlin stared after her uncomprehendingly.
“What kindred?” she wondered aloud
and then heard Julian’s voice
clearly in her mind:
We call ourselves Kindred.
She sat down abruptly.
It’s the key, she thought. That word
is the key!
Slowly, as if she were in a trance,
she turned to her computer and
typed Kindred. She hesitated for a moment before pushing
the search
button. Caitlin stared at the screen, refusing to believe
what she had
found, but deep down in her soul she knew that what she
was looking at
was the truth. It was all there, vague, yet compelling.
“Oh, my God!” she almost sobbed. “Nick
was right!”
This time the description fit all
she knew about Julian. Except for
the drinking of blood. But of course, Julian never would
have let her
see that! Or would he? She shivered violently, remembering
the accident
with the picture frame. He had lapped her blood! And
the picture! Was it
really Julian’s great-grandfather? Could two men, separated
by several
generations, be as alike as twin brothers? Or was it
Julian himself in
that picture?
I’ve gone mad! she thought. I can’t
take it anymore!
She jumped up and ran out of her office.
There must be some rational explanation,
she kept repeating to
herself. There must be! Oh, Julian, please, explain this
away!
Over the years Daedalus had taken care
of Julian’s wounds and had
tended to his injured ego more times than he cared to
remember. This
time was no different, and the Nosferatu decided to do
something about
it. As usual, the Prince became aware of the presence
of the Nosferatu
Primogen as soon as Daedalus entered the library.
“Aren’t you taking this a little too
far?” the Nosferatu asked at
last. The Prince had ignored him a few seconds too long.
Daedalus got
back a glare.
“What are you talking about?”
“You got out of there alive,” the
Nosferatu shrugged. “Stop feeling
sorry for yourself!”
“You got me out alive,” Julian responded,
“and I don’t feel sorry
for myself. It’s worse.”
“Worse?”
“I’m scared.” The statement wasn’t
followed by an explanation, so
Daedalus was forced to ask.
“What are you afraid of?”
Julian looked away. Daedalus knew
that reaction all too well.
“If you won’t tell me, I can’t help
you.”
Julian returned his gaze reluctantly
to his friend.
“It’s Caitlin. I’m afraid that she’s
about to find out the truth and
that this time I’ll lose her. Do you still think that
you can help me?”
The irony in the Prince’s voice passed
Daedalus’ ears unnoticed.
Depression is a human weakness, the
Nosferatu thought. Nevertheless,
Julia Luna suffered from that ailment every few years.
Daedalus believed
that many of Julian’s reckless affairs were attempts
at fighting his way
out of those suffocating, black periods in his life.
Taking into consideration what he’s
been through recently, it’s no
wonder... Daedalus was sure that the problem wasn’t Caitlin
but the
Prince himself.
“So why don’t you leave everything,
take Caitlin and run off to some
God forsaken hole, adopt a bunch of children and pretend
that you’re
human!”
Julian stared at the Nosferatu in
horror.
“I can’t do that!” he yelled. ”Are
you out of your mind!?”
“No, I’m not.” Daedalus started to
sound angry. “But that’s your
option. Or you can pull yourself together and start behaving
as befits
your status.”
“My... what?”
“Julian, you’re the Ventrue Prince
of the City, but you’re Kindred
first. How many centuries have to go by before you fully
accept that
fact? I’m sure that Caitlin would accept what you are
if she knew. So
stop blaming your bad mood on her!”
She did! Julian reminded himself.
Daedalus is right, as usual. Damn
the nosy Nosferatu! Why does he always have to be right?
But before Julian could respond, the
Nosferatu was gone. The door to
the library had opened and Caitlin had come in. Except
for Daedalus, she
was the only one who would enter without knocking. It
had annoyed Julian
sometimes, but right now he was grateful for the interruption.
To be
told off by Daedalus wasn’t Julian’s favorite pastime.
He greeted
Caitlin warmly.
“Am I glad to see you!” he exclaimed,
taking no notice of her
distraught expression. “Let’s get out of here before
I throw all these
papers into the fire.” He indicated the pile in front
of him. “Come!”
Before Caitlin could make one sound of protest or agreement,
he had
dragged her out into the San Francisco nightlife.
The guards followed them wherever they
went, even Caitlin was able
to spot some of them. They visited a couple of nightclubs
that Caitlin
didn’t know existed. Julian drank wine as if it were
water, not noticing
that Caitlin refused to drink. He got into a fight with
a man who called
him a spic, and behaved as if he were drunk. Caitlin
watched him with
incredulity, she had never seen him in such mood. In
the end they found
an amusement park for adults only: open all night. They
rode on a roller
coaster until Caitlin started to feel sick. Then he bought
her a hot-dog
and shot down an enormous pink elephant which she had
to carry around.
He was apparently determined to enjoy himself, but Caitlin
sensed his
desperation and it scared her.
He knows that I know! she thought
with apprehension.
The blinking spotlights, the noise,
the milling masses of people,
made it all seem unreal.
The House of Horrors, the bold sign
said.
They looked at it for a moment.
“Let’s escape,” Julian had whispered
into Caitlin’s ear and they
rushed inside. They climbed into a miniature van and
it started its
journey with a jolt. Caitlin had placed the plush elephant
on the seat
between them, but Julian pushed it down on the floor
and drew her close,
his arm tightening around her shoulders. The van gathered
momentum in
the pitch darkness and suddenly there was a burst of
light and a crude
skeleton materialized in the spotlight, clattering its
plastic bones.
Julian laughed, and the skeleton disappeared as if offended
by his
laughter. That made Caitlin laugh too. Seconds later
the light came on
again illuminating a hairy creature that might be a bad,
moth-eaten copy
of King-Kong. This time they both laughed simultaneously
and lost their
interest in the horrors that the house had to offer.
They were still
kissing when the van came to a stop and the lights came
on again. They
got out, leaving the pink elephant behind.
“Let’s go home!” Julian suggested.
Apparently he had had enough of the
nightlife, Caitlin realized with
relief.
A bodyguard was sitting in the front
passenger seat, as always.
Caitlin had asked about Arthur and Cash, but Julian had
merely told her
that they were gone. Caitlin and Julian were alone in
the cavernous back
seat.
How do the other guards travel? Caitlin
wondered fleetingly. Where
they like him...? Kindred? She shivered violently and
Julian closed her
in his arms.
“What is it, love?” he asked quietly.
“Are you cold?” There was
genuine concern in his voice, but he started to kiss
her before she
could answer and his hands moved over her body. He had
never done that
so blatantly in public. Caitlin tried to stop him, but
her own lust
betrayed her and her arms locked around his neck. She
was sliding down
slowly, intending to lie down on the seat, but there
was something
behind her back that arrested her movement. She turned
in Julian’s arms
with a surprised shriek. He reached up and turned on
the lamp.
They stared at the big, pink toy.
One of the guards must have
retrieved it from the House of Horrors and placed it
in the car. They
both looked at it for a moment and started laughing.
“What a chaperon!” Caitlin exclaimed
and laughed even harder.
Julian took the elephant and placed
it on his knees. It was so big
that its uplifted trunk was only inches from his face.
“I’ve told you before and I’m telling
you again...” Julian was
talking to the toy with mock seriousness, exaggerating
his British
accent, “leave the lady alone. I’ve shot you once, I
can do it again.”
He was pointing his finger at the pink head.
Suddenly the guard in the front turned
around, a gun in his hand.
“Boss, let me do it!” He was imitating
an Italian accent.
Julian’s head snapped up, his eyes
glowing green.
“Put the gun away!” he hissed, and the guard
did as he was told with
unbelievable swiftness, turning away. Julian continued
to glare at the
guard who hunched in his seat, apparently aware of the
anger that he had
provoked.
“Julian,” Caitlin took hold of his
sleeve, “he was just joking.”
He turned, his glimmering gaze focusing
on her.
“I don’t appreciate a gun waving in
front of me,” he said.
“Especially in such cramped space,” he continued. “Especially
when
you’re around!”
Caitlin kept staring into Julian’s
green eyes.
“He wasn’t even pointing it at me,”
she retorted. “I don’t...”
“But you’re the one who can get hurt!”
Julian snapped, then turned
abruptly away. When he looked back at her a few seconds
later, his eyes
had returned to their normal deep brown color.
“Here.” He shoved the pink elephant
towards her. “Hold on to your
friend.” He leaned back, turning off the light.
Caitlin was trying to gather her wits
in the darkness that ensued.
Julian, she was thinking, you’ve just
said that I can be hurt by a
gun but you can’t! She tried to look at her lover but
it was too dark in
the car. What really happened to Joe? she wondered. You
killed him when
I left you to get help. You didn’t really need any help,
did you?
“Julian...” she whimpered.
He responded to her voice, his arm
encircling her, making her rest
her head against his chest. She heard his heart beat
slowly.
“Oh, Julian,” she whispered, “why
don’t you stop this masquerade?”
She felt him stiffen and at the same
time the car came to a halt in
front of the entrance to the mansion.
The Masquerade!
It was as if the magic word
had opened a locked door in her mind.
The vivid images burst forth: the three attackers, the
knife stabs, the
flowing blood; Julian barely alive, his confession; the
horribly burned
man flying through the window... and more blood; her
own blood, running
over her lover’s lips...
“Oh, my God!” Caitlin stumbled on
the first step and Julian caught
her arm. She turned to face him.
“Julian...” she started.
“Not here!” he interrupted her, then
lifted her and carried her into
the house.
He kicked the door to her sitting
room open, walked in and placed
her on the table, but didn’t let go of her. He prevented
her from
talking, his kisses hot and desperately urgent, as if
he were begging -
don’t destroy us!
Caitlin couldn’t help responding to
that silent plea. She was
clinging to him, quite sure that something terrible would
happen if she
let go. Realizing that she would not refuse him, Julian
lifted her up
again and carried her into the bedroom.
This was his favorite moment: watching
her face; her breathing
shallow and uneven, stopping and restarting with a moan;
her nails
digging into his flesh. Her body so soft, warm and yielding.
No
resistance. Just hot and moist and so utterly exciting.
Her magical
inner muscles gripping him with the strength of a fluttering
butterfly,
sending him into his own world of dissolving, shuddering
flames of
pleasure...
They were kissing, soft, tender kisses.
Caitlin bit at his lower lip
lightly, and he responded in kind. But soon, there was
blood running in
thin rivulets down their chins, and they were no longer
playing.
Suddenly, Caitlin was the domineering one, making him
lie on his back
and follow her rhythm and movements as best he could.
He touched her,
but she took his hand away, whispering:
“My call.”
He touched her face then and watched
her turn her head, her teeth
catching his wrist, making him shudder with delight.
The blood trickled
down his arm, and her mouth followed until she reached
the crook of his
arm. He felt her bite again. He was cradling her head,
urging her on,
the pleasure making him dizzy...
She was looking straight at him, the
back of her hand smearing the
blood over her face, and he realized that she was fully
aware of what
was happening, her expression of desire mingling with
fear... She was
moving down over his body, her lips tracing hot paths
on his skin. He
understood what she was going to do, and his reason screamed:
Stop her!
Stop her, before it’s too late! But his body betrayed
him in its desire
for fulfillment, his hips tensing stiffly against her
touch. He
screamed and heaved violently, but she didn’t let go,
robbing him of
every last ounce of strength, until his body sagged in
total
emptiness...
Caitlin sat quietly, watching Julian’s
motionless body. His eyes
were closed, his beautiful face relaxed.
My God! Caitlin thought. He’s unconscious.
She jumped off the bed and ran to
the bathroom. After pouring cold
water over a towel, she returned to her lover; he was
covered with
blood. Whimpering with fright, Caitlin started to clean
his face first,
and was surprised when he reacted to the cold immediately,
his eyes
opening, his hand catching hers.
“Julian,” Caitlin whispered, “I thought
you had fainted.”
He smiled and took the soaked towel
from her and wiped his face.
Caitlin retrieved it and cleaned his chest and arm. There
was no trace
left of her bites on his wrist or in the bend of his
arm. She went back
to the bathroom and took another towel. This time she
held it under hot
water. Returning to the bed, she laid it over his belly
and thighs, and
saw him wince in pain. The fabric turned red within seconds.
She waited
until the red blotch stopped spreading before carefully
removing the
towel. No more blood came forth. She touched him lightly,
and his hand
caught hers again.
“Caitlin,” he said, “I’m fine.” He
looked her over. “You could use
some cleaning yourself,” he was smiling tiredly.
Caitlin spent only a few minutes in
the shower, but when she
returned Julian was asleep, curled up like a cat, the
covers drawn up to
his chin. Caitlin was too scared and too upset to sleep.
Her mind was
clear and she was absolutely sober. She knew what she
had done, there
was no way she could forget it this time. However, she
was still unsure
about her memories. And the Internet, well, anything
could be found on
the Net. She sat down in a chair. She would wait until
she knew the
truth.
Julian moved in his sleep several
times, startling her, but she
continued to wait. At last, when almost three hours had
passed, he
turned on his back, his body stretching to its full length.
She closed
in on him cautiously, as a hunter moves on his prey.
Her hand took hold
of the edge of the cover, and carefully, she pulled it
away. There was
no sign left of the injuries her teeth had inflicted:
none at all. She
let her hand touch his unmoving chest: nothing. The skin
over his
breastbone was cold against her cheek as she pressed
her ear to his left
side: nothing. She waited for more than a minute and
then there was a
powerful thud. Another minute, another beat.
This isn’t human! her mind yelled,
and Caitlin felt her heart jump
into her throat.
“Not human,” she sobbed.
Caitlin put on her clothes with jerky,
mechanical movements. Ten
minutes later, she had sneaked out of the mansion.
When Julian awoke, it was daylight.
I’ve overslept, was his first thought,
the next, I’ve slept. He
turned in bed with dread, but Caitlin wasn’t there. Yet,
he was not
alone: Daedalus was standing by the door. The Nosferatu’s
face, usually
so impassive, was stricken with grief. It made Julian
get out of bed
with a bolt.
“What’s happened?!” He heard the anguish
in his own voice.
But Daedalus turned without a word
and walked out through the door.
Julian followed, forgetting that he was naked. He didn’t
make it all the
way to the couch. His legs gave in when he was halfway
through the
sitting room and he fell to his knees. He looked at his
own hands,
flattened against the floor in an attempt to support
his weight.
“No!” His own scream echoed in his
head. “NO!” Then he crumbled on
the floor.
In the total stillness that came over
him, he felt the painful snap
inside his chest. Julian Luna knew that had he been mortal,
he would
have died now. But he was not so fortunate. His breathing
ceased and his
heart stopped beating. He felt his body become colder.
But the agonizing
pain was there and would stay with him forever. Julian
was not aware
that Daedalus had spread a blanket over his naked body,
nor that Sasha
had lifted his head on her lap, her red tears splashing
on his face. He
was locked away in the horror of his own mind, hoping
for the madness to
engulf him.
There exist no sedatives that would
affect a Kindred’s mind, but the
compassionate Nosferatu took Julian’s consciousness away.
Frank Kohanek looked at Caitlin with
apprehension. He had just put
on his jacket, about to leave, on his way to the meeting
with Cameron.
It was almost four in the morning when Caitlin had turned
up on his
doorstep, her face distraught. Apparently, she had been
crying.
“Caitlin, what are you doing here
at this hour? What’s wrong? Has
something happened to Julian?” Frank was starting to
feel scared.
“I think I‘ve gone completely out
of my mind,” Caitlin’s voice
broke. “He doesn’t breathe! His hearts beats only once
every minute!”
She started to cry.
“What!!!?”
“I watched him!” she was wailing.
“When he was asleep. So cold. And
he doesn’t breathe!” she exclaimed again.
“Well, then you don’t have to worry
about him snoring.” Frank could
have kicked himself for that stupid attempt at a joke
when he saw
Caitlin’s frightened expression.
Damn! he thought. I shouldn’t be dealing
with this. Luna should!
“Caitlin, please, calm down!” He took
hold of her shoulders. “Calm
down, you’re hysterical.”
“Of course I’m hysterical,” she screamed.
“Wouldn’t you be if you
found out that your lover is a vampire?!”
Frank just stared at her and Caitlin
became aware of his lack of
reaction. She looked up in his face.
“You knew,” she whispered. “You knew
all the time. Oh, my God! You
tried to warn me off.” The shock made her stop crying.
After she had fled the mansion in
panic, she had tried to find
Biggy, but he had already left the radio station, and
there was no
answer when she tried to call him at home. She didn’t
know what to do
then. That’s when she had thought of Frank Kohanek. The
impersonal voice
at the police station informed her that detective Kohanek
was off duty.
She had found his address in the phone book and told
the taxi driver to
go there. Now she was blurting out the story of the last
twelve hours to
Frank Kohanek, not even caring if he was listening.
Frank was at a loss.
“Caitlin,” he said when she finished,
“I understand that you’re
upset, but you can hardly do anything about it. Julian
is... well, what
he is. You have to accept that...”
“How can you be so calm?” She was
shaking her head in desperation.
“Like it didn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters,” Frank retorted.
“But I have accepted that
they exist. They live among us, not hiding, yet they
are perfectly
invisible.” Realizing that she was hardly listening,
Frank took hold of
her shoulders and shook her again. “Caitlin, don’t do
anything in a rush
or you’ll get into trouble.” He looked at his watch.
“Look, I’m on my
way to meet the guy who sent that damn diary to Samuel
Heims. You stay
here and wait until I get back, then we can talk further.”
Yet he wasn’t
moving, afraid to leave her on her own. “Listen, why
don’t you come with
me instead?”
Caitlin didn’t want to be left alone.
“I’ll go with you,” she said.
Cameron was starting to feel impatient:
the cop was late. But he
could afford to wait. After all, he was at home. Sasha
was asleep just a
couple of rooms away. Things were shaping up. If he were
lucky, maybe he
would get rid of Luna eventually.
Cameron heard the car stop outside
and the voices of his guards;
then the door to the building was opened. Frank’s steps
were hardly
audible in the corridor outside Cameron’s office, but
the clattering
sound of high heels was unmistakable.
Why has he brought a woman with him?
Cameron wondered and rose from
his chair as the door opened and the couple entered.
Cameron’s eyes bulged in surprise.
“Caitlin!” he exclaimed. “What...
what are you doing here?!”
But Cameron didn’t get any answer.
Instead, Caitlin’s face turned
white and she froze in fright. They stared at each other
for a short
moment and then Caitlin started to scream.
“It’s him! It was him!” She pointed
her finger accusingly at
Cameron. “He raped me!” She turned and started to run.
Cameron ran after
her with incredible swiftness. Frank’s attempt to stop
the Brujah was
brushed aside and his head hit the wall so hard that
he almost fainted.
He saw Cameron grab Caitlin’s shoulder, forcing her to
turn back.
“Let me go!” she shouted.
“Caitlin, please, listen to me!” Cameron
was trying to reach her
through her fear. “Caitlin, I never wanted to hurt you!
You must believe
me!”
But she continued screaming, her fright
unabated.
“No! No! Leave me alone! Let me go!”
She was struggling to get away,
hitting and scratching him, while Cameron was trying
to hold on to her
and to stop her screams.
Then, suddenly, there was silence.
Frank had just gotten up on all four,
his head still swimming. He
saw Caitlin crumble on the floor, Cameron staring at
her in disbelief.
He looked at Frank and then at the motionless woman at
his feet. At the
same moment a door opened further down in the corridor
and Sasha came
out.
“Cameron, what’s going on?” she asked.
She didn’t receive any answer, but
her voice broke through the
Brujah’s paralysis. Cameron ran past her and disappeared
down the
stairs.
Frank was trying to understand what
had happened. Caitlin had come
to him looking for answers, searching for confirmation
or maybe denial
of her own suspicions, but Frank had had no time for
her fears. He had
suggested instead that she follow him to the meeting
with the man who
had sent the diskette with Amy’s diary to Biggy. Frank
would regret that
suggestion for the rest of his life.
He crept over the floor to Caitlin’s
side. Her eyes were wide open
but she didn’t see anything. The skin on her face was
losing its warmth
quickly. Her neck had snapped like a twig in Cameron’s
hands.
Sasha’s hand hovered over the phone,
but she didn’t touch it.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t
do it!”
“I understand you very well,” Frank
said, “but someone has to tell
him, and I don’t think I should be the one.”
Sasha looked at him, her eyes wide
with fright. Then she nodded.
“There’s only one...” She picked up
the phone and dialed the number.
“Luna residence.”
“Uh... it’s Sasha. Can you get me
Daedalus?”
“Who’s Daedalus?” Frank asked while
she was waiting, but she merely
shook her head.
“Yes,” was all the Nosferatu said.
“Oh, Daedalus!” Sasha started to cry
in spite of herself. “Please,
come to the Brujah compound! Please, come at once!”
“Sasha, what’s happened?” The Nosferatu’s
calm voice didn’t help.
Sasha’s crying became hysterical.
“Please, Daedalus, please! Just come!
Don’t tell Julian!” She hung
up, unable to say anything more.
At the same moment the door was opened
and Sonny came in.
“Frank, it’s my night off,”
he was saying. “What’s so
important...?” He stopped
abruptly and his face turned gray. He stared at Caitlin’s
body, then at
Frank and at last at Sasha.
“Who?” was all he said.
“Cameron.” Sasha was whispering.
”That’s the end of the Brujah!” Sonny’s
voice started to shake.
“Does Julian know?”
Sasha shook her head.
“I called Daedalus,” Sasha answered.
“He’ll be here any minute.
He’ll have to tell Julian and take her to the mansion.
I couldn’t do
it!” She hid her face in her hands.
“Take her to the mansion?!” Frank
exclaimed. “That’s not the proper
procedure. The investigation...”
Sonny didn’t let him continue.
“What is there to investigate? he
asked, his voice infinitely sad.
“She’s dead. Cameron killed her. I’ll take care of the
bureaucracy. I
think Daedalus can take her home. Tell me exactly what’s
happened.”
It didn’t take Frank long to describe
the events that had led to
Caitlin’s death.
“Look,” he said in the end, “shouldn’t
we be chasing the murderer?
He’s getting further and further away by the minute.”
Sonny shook his head.
“We’ll find him,” he said quietly.
“Cameron is dead, he just hasn’t
figured it out yet.”
As it turned out, Daedalus was the
only one who was fully aware of
how much Caitlin meant to Julian, and his reaction disclosed
that. He
had materialized out of nowhere, scaring Frank witless;
the Nosferatu’s
appearance was never appreciated by the mortals. He took
in the scene in
one glance, and walked over to where Caitlin’s body lay.
He kneeled
beside her, his hands fluttered over her face for a few
seconds and fell
to his sides. He sighed heavily, his head bowed, then
looked up at the
others. Red tears were streaming down his face.
“The Prince,” he whispered. “Julian...”
The Nosferatu let his hand move over
his face and the tears
disappeared.
“We may lose our Prince,” he said
in a shaky voice. “I must take her
home,” he continued. “I must tell Julian...” His voice
broke there.
Although James Byrne had taken the
first flight to Francisco without
notifying anyone, a big, elderly man picked him up at
the airport.
“I’m Samuel Heims,” the man presented
himself and the astronomer
recognized his voice.
“You were the one who called me.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t Julian...?”
“He is in no shape to talk to anyone.
I’m afraid he’s trying very
hard to die as well,” the old man said dejectedly. “They
are afraid that
he might succeed.”
“What!?” Caitlin’s father was shocked.
Then a suspicion dawned on
his mind. “Did he kill her?”
“No!” Biggy shook his head. “The murderer
has fled from the city.
But we’ll find him. You can be sure of that.”
Caitlin’s body had not been taken
to the morgue.
Frank Kohanek met James Byrne when
he arrived at the mansion.
“I’ve identified your daughter officially,”
the policeman told
Caitlin’s father, “but if you want to see her...” His
voice trailed off
as if he was trying to prevent himself from crying. “I
knew her,” he
added.
James Byrne did want to see his daughter.
Caitlin’s body was still on the couch
in her living room, uncovered,
in the same position that Daedalus had left her after
bringing her to
the mansion. There were ugly, dark marks on her neck.
“Has she been strangled?” James Byrne
asked the policeman and Frank
nodded.
“Has she... been harmed in any other
way?”
“No, not this time.”
“What do you mean?”
“The man who did this... he has hurt
her before. She recognized him.
That’s why he killed her.” Frank was doing his best to
control his
voice. He wasn’t succeeding very well.
“How do you know that?” the astronomer
asked.
“I saw him do it!” Frank started to
cry. “I could do nothing...
nothing.”
James Byrne was let into the library.
Julian was sitting in a chair near
the fireplace, a young girl
hovering at his side, several others kept in the background.
He looked
up and frowned when the astronomer called out his name,
but didn’t react
in any other way. James Byrne had a feeling that Julian
Luna didn’t
recognize him.
He really is in shock, Caitlin’s father
thought.
Slowly, he came closer and took hold
of Julian’s shoulders. The
younger man blinked several times and tried to say something
but all he
could manage was inarticulate mumbling. Without a word,
James Byrne
hugged Julian who sagged in his arms. His face came to
rest against the
old man’s cheek and James Byrne felt that Julian’s skin
was ice-cold. He
took hold of Julian’s hand. It was so cold that it might
have belonged
to a dead person. Furtively, the old man’s fingers moved
to the wrist.
He could find no pulse there. He let go of Julian and
looked into his
face again. The deathly pallor, the unblinking eyes.
James Byrne had an
uncanny feeling that Julian Luna wasn’t breathing either.
The young girl caught his attention.
“I’m Sasha,” she said in a low voice.
“I’m Julian’s niece.” She
glanced at her uncle and frowned. “He won’t talk to anyone.
I’m sorry.”
The astronomer looked at Julian again.
The girl was probably right.
The young man was not present in this world.
Daedalus made sure that someone was
with the Prince all the time.
Although Julian had not shown any inclination towards
harming himself,
the Nosferatu suspected that his friend would extinguish
his life if he
could. Of course, it is extremely difficult for a Kindred
to commit
suicide, but Daedalus hid all weapons, just in case.
The real problem arose the next night,
when the Nosferatu urged the
Prince to get out to feed. Julian had lashed out in rage,
making
Daedalus sigh with relief. Even a fit of rage was better
than the total
apathy.
“Leave me alone!” Julian had shouted.
“Why can’t you leave me
alone?!”
He broke down and started to cry.
Daedalus’ attempts at consolation
were ignored, but in the end Julian was too exhausted
to protest, and
the Nosferatu managed to drag him out and force him to
feed.
Apart from the one outburst Julian
seemed impossible to reach most
of the time. He had no willpower left and would do whatever
he was told
to do. When he didn’t sleep, he would just stare at nothing.
Whatever
was said to him had to be repeated several times before
he took notice.
Daedalus watched and worried.
Cameron was surprised that he had managed
to get as far as he had.
It didn’t really matter if the Prince
had condemned him to Final
Death and declared a Blood-Hunt. Cameron knew that his
life was
forfeited in any case. As long as Julian Luna was alive,
Cameron would
be hunted.
Right now he was alive because he
had acted so swiftly.
He had fled only minutes after he
realized what he had done, and
reached Sacramento before dawn. He resisted the temptation
when the
flight to Los Angeles was announced. Cyrus wouldn’t be
of much help.
Instead Cameron boarded the first eastbound plane. He
intended to get
help from the Brujah Prince in Miami. Cameron wanted
to leave the
country, determined to lose himself somewhere in the
Middle East or
Europe. He was quite sure that America wasn’t big enough
for him to get
away from Julian Luna’s pursuit. Cameron had never been
outside the
United States. In fact, the only time he had left California
was when
the Prince had sent him to Miami. He was oblivious to
the simple fact
that he would be more visible anywhere outside his own
country.
By the end of the day he found himself
in Amarillo. He was alone,
out of his territory, and scared of his own shadow. He
spotted some
Gangrels that seemed to be looking for someone, so he
fled from the
airport and used the cover of night to get out of the
city. He didn’t
dare stop to feed, although hunger made him increasingly
weaker. He
stole a car and drove south. The Mexican border couldn’t
be too far
away, he figured. He decided to get on a boat bound for
Florida from
some port on the east coast of Mexico. Cameron wasn’t
too good at
geography and he had no map.
He drove all night and half of the
next day. Then, when he saw a
growth that would provide cover he decided to rest. He
hid the car in
the shade and fell asleep. When he woke up it was night
again. His watch
said ten o’clock. His hunger screamed with doubled force
but he tried to
ignore it. He hadn’t seen any living creatures for the
last hundred
miles, and he didn’t know when he would find humans again.
He started
south anew. After several hours he began to worry. There
was nothing but
the empty road and vastness on both sides of it: no lights,
no
buildings, nothing.
Cameron didn’t know that he was driving
through Llano Estacado.
Cameron screamed in rage.
The car had broken down without any
warning. It jumped, coughed and
wheezed, and smoke came from under the hood; the engine
died with one
final groan. When Cameron lifted the hood, more black
smoke welled out.
He knew enough about cars to realize that it was probably
the cylinder
head gasket that had been destroyed. There was no way
he could fix it
without help. Cameron was stranded in the middle of an
American desert,
only dimly aware of his whereabouts, and he was too weak
from hunger to
shift-shape; he’d have to continue on foot. Maybe some
car would come by
and pick him up, it didn’t really matter in which direction.
But he
started walking southward. His watch said a quarter past
two. He had
glanced at the clock in the car before he abandoned it.
The soft green
display had showed four fifteen. Cameron shrugged at
that. He trusted
his own watch more. He decided to walk for three or four
hours and then
find some shelter. To stay out in the open during the
day might prove
fatal. If necessary, he would dig a hole in the ground.
Cameron had walked for a little more
than an hour when he noticed
that the sky over the eastern horizon started to lighten
up.
Was there a city just beyond the horizon?
Was he seeing its lights?
He turned east, sighing with relief.
But only twenty minutes later
the thin crest of the morning sun rose above the arid
ground. Cameron
stared at it uncomprehending and then looked at his watch.
“What the hell!!!” he shouted.
The realization struck him with terror.
Cameron had totally
forgotten that he had crossed two time zones flying east.
The car clock
had shown the right Texan time. The sun was rising on
this bright
December morning, painting the forbidding desert in the
most beautiful
colors. Cameron turned with an oath and started running
back. Within
minutes the merciless rays made his skin burst into flames
and he knew
that he’d never make it back to the car. He raised his
arms in a futile
attempt to protect his face and watched with horror as
his hands caught
fire. He screamed in agony.
The vultures circled for almost an
hour over the cinders, but
decided eventually that there was nothing left for them
and flew away.
Cameron’s remains were found and identified
only a few hours after
the sunset that same day by a team of two Gangrels and
a Nosferatu.
Julian Luna’s, or rather Daedalus’, intelligence had
been working
overtime and had surpassed itself.
Cameron would never have made it to
Miami in any case.
James Byrne decided to bury his daughter
next to her mother in the
small cemetery a mere six miles from his home. He braced
himself,
expecting protests from Julian Luna but none came. In
fact, Julian
didn’t react to anything, agreeing by default to everything
that was
suggested. He’d sign any paper that was put in front
of him without
reading it. The people who lived in the mansion seemed
to be in charge
of everything. The young girl, Sasha, was in charge of
Julian. He would
do whatever she told him to do; but quite often he seemed
not to hear
her, as if his mind had wandered off into another dimension.
The old astronomer didn’t even know
who took care of the funeral
arrangements; but everything was prepared according to
his wishes on the
day of Caitlin’s burial. James Byrne watched as the jet
landed at the
Seattle airport. He saw the casket being carried out,
followed by
Julian, his niece at his side. The policeman, Frank Kohanek,
and the big
man, Samuel Heims, came behind them. Sasha was supporting
her uncle as
they walked towards the car that had come for them. James
Byrne
intercepted them before they reached the big, foreign
vehicle.
“Please, Julian, I want you to come
with me,” he said.
Julian looked up at Caitlin’s father
and his absent expression
changed into one of pain.
“James,” his voice was a hoarse whisper,
“I’m so sorry.”
He started towards the older man but
stumbled after a few steps and
lost his balance. Sasha, who had been holding Julian’s
elbow, stretched
her other arm across his midriff, preventing him from
falling. James
Byrne stared in surprise, wondering how the short, slim
girl could hold
up a man without any visible strain.
The astronomer took Julian’s hand
when they were seated in the car.
It lay in his grip, limp and cold as a dead thing, and
he tried to rub
some warmth into it.
“Julian!” Sasha, who sat on the other
side, nudged her uncle. He
looked at her frowning, and she nodded toward his hand.
His eyes
followed her gaze and within seconds James Byrne felt
Julian’s hand
become warm.
How odd, the old man thought.
Every now and then the astronomer would
cast a worried glance at
Julian during the service. The young man didn’t seem
to notice what was
going on around him. His eyes were unfocused, and he
moved only when
Sasha made him react to her prodding. She kept her arm
around his waist,
her grief-stricken face contrasting with Julian’s listlessness.
Nick Marliss came forth afterwards
and did his best to stare Julian
down. Seeing that he would have more success in staring
down a statue,
he looked askance at Sasha until she felt compelled to
say something.
“I’m Julian’s niece,” she said. “My
name is Sasha.”
“Uh, niece?” Nick’s voice betrayed
his doubt and Julian reacted at
last. His eyes shimmered green for a split second and
his back
straightened.
“There’s no reason for you to be rude,”
Julian said in a clear,
high-pitched voice. “None at all.”
Frank Kohanek came to Julian’s side
immediately.
“Back off!” he snarled.
The two policemen faced each other,
but Nick would not back off.
“I knew that you’d get her killed!”
Nick had turned back to Julian.
“Why couldn’t you leave her alone?!”
Julian Luna flinched as if Nick had
slapped him in the face, then
tried to regain his composure.
“We don’t control our fate,” he said
quietly. “No more than you do.
If you can see into the future... it’s your curse. Fortunately,
I
can’t.”
As Julian was turning away, Nick started
after him but Frank caught
his arm.
“Leave him alone!” Frank demanded.
“He had nothing to do with
Caitlin’s death.”
“What do you mean?” Nick asked.
“Exactly that. She was killed by a
guy who had hurt her before. She
recognized him, that’s why he murdered her.” Frank’s
voice filled with
pain at the memory. “Julian Luna had nothing to do with
it!”
Only it’s not true! Julian had heard
Frank’s explanation. I‘m the
very reason for Caitlin’s death. I made her remember
Cameron’s voice.
Out of petty jealousy!
He stumbled again, but Sasha was there
to keep him upright. James
Byrne took Julian’s other arm.
“Let’s get out of here before you
harm yourself,” he said.
Julian Luna did not participate in
the reception after Caitlin’s
funeral.
James Byrne noticed that Sasha, Frank
and Samuel were standing in a
corner, talking quietly to each other. It was the first
time that
Caitlin’s father saw the young girl parted from her uncle
and it worried
him. He approached her as soon as he got rid of the priest
who was
trying to offer some consolation.
“Where’s Julian?”
“He locked himself up in Caitlin’s
room,” Sasha answered.
“That’s impossible!” the astronomer
retorted. “There’s no key.”
The girl shrugged dejectedly.
“He told me to leave him alone.”
“He won’t try to harm himself, will
he?” James Byrne asked with
apprehension.
“He can’t... ” Sasha started but then
checked herself. “I don’t
think so,” she continued. “But we’ve been watching over
him ever
since... it happened. He’s entitled to some privacy.”
She turned away,
hiding her tears.
At last everybody was gone.
James Byrne looked at Sasha and Frank.
They were just sitting there,
waiting, apparently prepared to wait all night if necessary.
The big man
had disappeared. The old astronomer slowly climbed the
stairs to his
daughter’s room. He knocked on the door, but there was
no answer. He
knocked again and entered. Julian was curled up on Caitlin’s
bed. For a
fleeting moment James Byrne had an impression that a
big, black cat was
nestled in his daughter’s bed. He called Julian’s name
softly, prepared
to repeat it, but the young man sat up abruptly, his
movement
startlingly swift. His hand moved over his face and came
away red with
blood.
“What have you done to yourself!?”
James Byrne exclaimed with fear.
Julian Luna looked at his palm, blinking
in surprise, then looked up
at the old man.
“I... I must have bitten my lip,”
he said hesitantly. He tried to
wipe his face with both hands, making the mess even worse.
James Byrne went to the bathroom and
came back with a wet towel.
“Here.” He watched intently as Julian
cleaned himself.
There was no trace of injury: not
on Julian’s face, not on his neck,
nor on his wrists. The old man exhaled with relief.
“You aren’t trying to do yourself
any harm, are you?”
“I can’t...” Julian stopped in mid-sentence
just as Sasha had. “No.
No more harm can come to me.” After a moment he continued,
“I wish to be
alone.”
“Sure.” James Byrne nodded. “Just
one thing. The man... the one who
killed Caitlin, has he been apprehended?”
Julian shook his head.
“No, he escaped.”
“Escaped?”
“He ran fast... got halfway across
the United States before he got
lost in the desert and died there. His... remains have
been found and
identified.”
“So, he’s dead.” James Byrne nodded
with satisfaction. “He’s got his
punishment.”
But Julian shook his head with vehemence.
“No, he escaped,” he said angrily.
“Escaped into the final death,”
he declared to the bewildered astronomer who didn’t dare
to ask for an
explanation.
Frank slept on the couch in the living
room; Sasha was given the
guestroom.
No one disturbed Julian Luna during
the night. They waited for him
in the morning, sipping tea in the kitchen, talking in
subdued voices.
Frank told Caitlin’s father all that he could about her
death. He
confirmed Julian’s statement about Cameron’s demise.
It was the first
time that James Byrne heard the murderer’s name.
“He sounded, I mean, Julian sounded
angry that this Cameron had
died,” the astronomer commented.
The policeman smiled at that.
“Angry?” he retorted. “He was mad
as hell when they told him. As
Julian sees it, Cameron has escaped justice. Although
I must say, he
died a terrible death. Burnt up in the desert.”
“Burnt up?”
“Uhuh...” Frank hesitated, embarrassed
and afraid that he had said
too much. “You know, the sun in the desert... it’s rather...
formidable.” He was trying to smooth over his indiscretion.
Julian came down at last, to everybody’s
surprise, as impeccable as
ever. Whatever he had been through during the night was
hidden under a
bland expression. But they soon saw that beneath the
spotless appearance
there was emptiness. Julian Luna had again locked himself
away from the
world of the living.
Julian Luna wasn’t a financial wizard;
he had always been too
conservative for that. But in spite of his caution he
had been able to
amass quite a fortune over the decades. It had stayed
intact as he had
always benefited from Archon’s generosity. And Archon
had been rich.
Now, after Archon’s death, being his sole heir, Julian
found himself
immensely wealthy. Not only as the Prince of San Francisco,
but also
because his personal assets were vast.
In order to occupy himself during
the daytime, Julian started to
take a more active part in his many enterprises. Since
his only reason
for doing it was to take his mind off the loss of Caitlin,
he was able
to conduct business with the calm assurance of someone
to whom making
money isn’t a goal in itself.
And he did well, using almost all
profits for the care and welfare
of the Kindred. Even the Brujahs couldn’t complain anymore.
To Daedalus’ surprise, the Prince
worked harder than he had ever
done before. No matter was too insignificant for him
to take care of
personally. He immersed himself in all sorts of activities,
making sure
that he was busy every minute he was awake.
He’s keeping the grief at bay, Daedalus
concluded with relief.
Yet, Julian Luna wasn’t all that successful
in commanding his
thoughts. Every now and then his gaze would lose its
focus, his hands
would start to shake and he would turn deathly pale.
If there were
witnesses in such moments, they would realize with dread
that the full
impact of the tragedy had surfaced again. Whenever that
happened, Julian
would lock himself away for hours, sometimes days, on
end.
The passing of time didn’t alter the
pattern, and although there was
nothing in Julian’s performance at his duties to complain
about,
Daedalus became more and more worried about the Prince’s
sanity.
The mansion had never been a center
of gaiety, but now it reminded
the Nosferatu of a tomb. Julian Luna’s social life became
non-existent,
and he didn’t seem to notice the ladies who were trying
to catch his
attention. Lillie, showing wisdom uncommon in a Toreador,
shunned Julian
as if he had the plague.
The Kindred of San Francisco had never
been as prosperous and well
behaved as nowadays. For the first time in more than
a century, all
clans were in absolute accord: they had a Prince that
was worth his
title. The fact that Julian Luna was aware of their opinion
did not
affect his gloominess.
Julian, who had always been aware of
the Nosferatu’s presence,
didn’t seem to notice that Daedalus had been watching
him for almost an
hour.
The Nosferatu Primogen didn’t like
what he saw.
The triumphant Prince of the City,
he was thinking. All resistance
squashed. Alone, bitter and profoundly unhappy.
“I wish there was something I could
say. Something I could do,”
Daedalus said at last and Julian looked up, blinking
in surprise. But he
gathered his wits instantly.
“There’s nothing you can do or say,
Daedalus.” His voice was
expressionless. “Nothing at all.”
But the Nosferatu wouldn’t give up.
“The time...” he started, but his
voice wouldn’t obey him and he had
to clear his throat before he could speak again.
“Julian, when you have lived as long
as I have, you’ll know that
there is nothing permanent except for the eternal hunger.”
But the Prince merely looked at him,
apparently refusing to
comprehend.
“Face it, the eternal hunger is all
there is in the end,” Daedalus
repeated angrily. “Snap out of it!” The Nosferatu had
to fight the urge
to slap Julian’s face. To hit a Prince wouldn’t do. Not
even the
Nosferatu Primogen could allow himself such familiarity.
“Daedalus,” Julian’s voice was accusing,
“you used to chide me
because I didn’t care. Then, I did care... Look where
it got me.”
Daedalus winced at that, thinking,
one can be slapped with words. He
had always been the one to make the Prince start at his
pointed remarks.
He wished now that that he could make some of his comments
unsaid. How
many times had he scoffed at Julian’s reckless affairs?
All starting
with that special glimmer in his eyes at the sight of
a beautiful face,
all ending more or less disastrously. Archon would rave
in rage,
accusing Julian of endangering the Masquerade. Daedalus
had hated their
rows: their angry voices shouting at each other; the
women’s tears; the
sulking, until it all slowly settled down, ending with
the Prince’s
shrug of ‘I don’t care’.
But now, Daedalus wished for that
shrug. The shrug that said it’s
over, let’s move on. It had not come, and Daedalus knew
with terrifying
certainty that it wouldn’t come anytime soon, if ever.
He even wished
for the angry shouts and fits of rage, anything that
would shatter the
apathy, chase away the dullness from Julian’s eyes.
---